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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652388">A Brisk Walk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperdragon/pseuds/dapperdragon'>dapperdragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Out of the Nick of Time [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Forever (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, The Pugilist Break, cw car accident</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:16:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperdragon/pseuds/dapperdragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>What if Fabian had gotten a shot off before the truck collided with him?</strong>
</p>
<p>In Episode 5, The Pugilist Break, Henry had been threatened at gunpoint before the suspect miraculously got run over by a truck. What if he'd managed to fire first?</p>
<p>
  <i>Disclaimer: this is not guaranteed to be a reveal. Like all OotNoT stories, I recommend rewatching the correlating episode just before reading the story, but that’s certainly not required.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jo Martinez &amp; Henry Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Out of the Nick of Time [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Brisk Walk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jo cradled the little boy to her while Henry chased the suspect out of the shop’s stuffy basement. “You’re safe.”<br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until she felt the boy holding her back, small hands clutching her shoulder, that she realized Henry should be in her place and she in his. He had no business chasing suspects, though he really seemed to enjoy doing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her suspicions had been right: Henry was diving too hard into the detective life. If she didn’t slow him down, he was going to burn out. Or get himself killed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gunshots down the hallway. The kid tensed at each one, but so did she. Damn it, why did Henry insist on being so reckless? Another gunshot, the distant squeal of tires.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay here, okay?” she said, and saw a sudden fear in the kid’s eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. I need to make sure my partner is alright. Just stay right here. I’ll be right back, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, his heavy breaths expanding his little torso like he’d just run a marathon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jo nodded back to him, then stood and rushed to follow Henry and Fabian out the side hallway and up the stairs, out onto the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A massive truck had stopped just outside the door. She glanced up and down the sidewalk, but didn’t see either of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, God,” cried the driver as he emerged from the cab. Her heart seized; she sprinted out around the truck, hoping she wouldn’t find Henry’s body lying in front of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t. It was Fabian that laid there, coughing blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He came out of nowhere,” the driver called out. “I didn’t even have time to hit the brakes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She fished out her phone and called for an ambulance. She barely heard her own voice, just kept searching around the narrow street for Henry. He’d been right behind Fabian, hadn’t he? Where could he have gone?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t leave the kid in that basement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay here,” she told the truck driver, shoving her phone into his hands. “Stay on the line with the paramedics and do what they say. I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he called after her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hunted the sidewalk and street as rapidly as she could for drops of blood, searched the horizon for men in suits leaning on lampposts or walls, or slumped on the ground. There was nothing; no blood, no silhouettes, not even a sauntering man turning around a corner to find her. Henry was nowhere to be found.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jo cursed and raced back downstairs to comfort the kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>#</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jo tried not to panic. There’d been no one else dangerous, no one else related to the case who might come looking for Henry--except for Delgros, but neither he nor anyone working for him had been nearby. Had they? Would Delgros really kidnap a city officer for the sake of his condo project?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she’d seen the kid to safety, Jo scoured the street again, every alley, every nook for a discarded scarf or a spatter of blood. He was nowhere. It’s like Henry had just vanished into thin air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did he run off? Why would he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She begrudgingly let Mike lead her off back to the station. If only Henry had a cell phone. She couldn’t believe he had called them ‘useless’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then--like nothing had happened--he called her desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jo,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said as soon as she answered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“If you could come down to the morgue, our friend Fabian-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry!” She leaned forward over her desk. “Where the hell have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I beg your pardon?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You beg</span>
  <em>
    <span> my</span>
  </em>
  <span> pardon?” She didn’t really know what she meant by that. “You disappeared right off the street! Where did you go? Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course I’m okay, Detective. Why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hissed her response into the phone. “Because you vanished while you were chasing a suspect who had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun!</span>
  </em>
  <span> For the last time, where the hell did you go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I went... for a walk.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A</span>
  <em>
    <span> walk?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A brisk walk. Does wonders for the health.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry, are you telling me, that in the</span>
  <em>
    <span> middle</span>
  </em>
  <span> of an investigation, you just decided to</span>
  <em>
    <span> go for a walk?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A short pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned back in her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“In any case, Detective, I would like you down in the morgue.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jo closed her eyes. “Alright, Henry, I’ll be right there. But... don’t do that again. Please. Ever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Noted. You have my word.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hung up, then rested her face in her hands and let out a long, slow breath.</span>
</p>
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